Tags:

Comments

got a bunch of this into one snippet: (no particular fandom...part of a dream sequence for a character)

Put your thoughts on ice, a voice said, low and rumbling, with a monstrous, threatening echo that sounded both right next to him and distant all at once, that sucked inside of him with the burrowing fury beetles that burned a trail through his blood. Don’t argue, the voice continued after a flash of sickly yellow bloodshot eyes. You cannot win.

Was he arguing? Fighting? He did not think so. He felt only like a passive bystander, an observer to something he did not understand. He was certain he was still dreaming. Such eyes, such a voice, could not be a reality. Such a thing was a product of nightmares, not of the waking world. This was a thing that would kill beauty, destroy goodness, if only its spindly fingers could claw a little deeper, wrap a little tighter.

But there was one bloom that cold would not kill. Even in this dream-fugue state, he knew it. He was not alone in his belief and desire to keep that one bloom alive. Whatever the intentions of the villain in his dream, he was not going to let harm come to that tender, frost-covered rose.